Chapter 11
Cassie
After our conversation about my parents, I can’t quite get back into the cheerful mood. Lincoln tries—I can tell he’s doing his best to cheer me up. I keep thinking back to what he said and how he would have taken care of my dad one way or another.
There are a lot of unresolved feelings when it comes to my dad falling sick and my mom leaving. I don’t know how to be at peace with it. My coping mechanism has been not to think about it. Maybe that can keep working.
My hips hurt from sitting all day, and my mouth feels weird from drinking too much coffee. Lincoln pulls into a little parking lot right in front of a cute bed and breakfast. The sign says, “Rosie’s Bed and Breakfast.” The O is broken but still readable.
“I checked online, and it says this is the only place to stay.” Lincoln leans back in the driver’s seat, turning off the car.
We switched for a couple of hours before he insisted on driving again. He probably drove at least six hours of the trip.
“Ready to get out of this car?” he asks with a smile.
“You bet I’m ready.” I’m the first one to the door, and looking back, I see Lincoln walking with a slight limp. I'm going to insist on taking over the driving from here on out, or he'll mess up his leg trying to handle everything.
The inside of the inn is cute. Someone has put a lot of time into giving it a cozy vibe. Wooden benches sit on the side of the reception area, with colorful cushions and little white Christmas lights behind them, even though we're nowhere near the holidays. It lights up the back of the benches as if they are glowing. A sign with red lettering sits above the desk:
“Welcome to Rosie's Bed and Breakfast.”
“Hi. How can I help you tonight?” A young woman about my age is behind the reception desk, her brown hair in two braids and a bright, cherry-red smile on her face.
“We need two rooms for the night. Anything will do. We know it's last-minute.” Lincoln leans his elbows on the counter, waiting to see her options.
“Sure, let me take a look at that.” The girl types a few things into the computer and frowns. “Oh, I'm sorry, we only have one room left.”
Lincoln looks over at me, and a smile lifts the corner of his lips.
I shake my head ever so slightly at him. We are not staying in the same room. That would be a recipe for disaster.
“We'll take it.” Lincoln's smile covers his entire face now, and he looks way too happy about the circumstances. Anxiety takes over me.
“Does that room have one bed or two?” I interject in the conversation as she continues to type, clearly taking Lincoln's lead on what we're about to do.
“One bed. Is that all right?” She looks between the two of us, and for the first time, I realize she's chewing gum. She waits, silence settles over the reception area except for the smack smack smack of her gum, which is getting on my nerves.
“That’s perfect. We'll figure it out. If you could just send up some extra blankets and pillows, that would be perfect.” Lincoln grins, his charm as present as ever.
“All right then. Will that be cash or card?” She holds out her hand, and I go for my purse.
Before I can get my wallet out, Lincoln's already put his card in her hand. I'm not sure if I should thank him for paying for the room or scold him for agreeing to stay in one room with one bed. Surely, there's one other place to stay in Mesquite.
Do I really want to drive around looking for it for the next couple of hours? Or risk ending up in some roach-infested motel? No. I understand Lincoln's motivation. I'm ready for a hot shower and a good night's rest.
Ten minutes later, we're walking down the hall with our backpacks, and I nudge his arm.
“One bed, Lincoln, really?”
“I'll take the floor. It's going to be fine.” He winks, and I shake my head. Of course, he thinks it's going to be fine. Perhaps he doesn't remember how he couldn't resist kissing me in the hospital hallway less than a couple of months ago .
The room has the same vibe as the reception area. It's well-decorated, with simple furniture and a lamp casting a gentle glow over the entire space.
There is indeed one bed, and it's certainly not big enough for both of us to sleep in. It's a double at best and a single at worst. At least the carpet under my feet is nice and fluffy. That means whoever gets the floor won’t suffer too much.
Lincoln touches my shoulder, and I look up at him. We are standing way too close, the exact sort of situation sharing a room can cause. I can see he didn't shave today, and his stubble is already growing out. I can't decide if he looks more handsome clean-shaven.
“I can see you're stressing about it, but really, don't. There's plenty of cushion with the carpet, and they're going to bring extra blankets. The floor is perfectly comfortable for me. It beats looking for another place.” He moves his hand, and I miss how close he was a second ago. He sets his backpack on the chair by the wall.
“Do you want to use the shower first?” I offer. If he’s going to be sleeping on the floor, maybe he deserves first dibs.
“That’s all right. You go ahead, and I’ll get my bed ready.” Lincoln hops up to answer a knock on our door, and I take him up on the offer. I’m covered in road trip grime and can’t wait to get washed off.
Right before I get in the shower, I get a text from Quinn.
From what I can tell, Nathan’s been missing for weeks. I’m wondering if he ever met with Anita. See if you can verify from that side.
I shoot off a text .
Thanks for letting me know. I’ll see what I can figure out.
My head spins as I take my shower. If Nathan never met with Anita, why did Lincoln say he did? Lincoln has also acted suspiciously against the Thorntons since the whole Anita case started. There might be other motivations at work, and I have no idea how to figure out what they are—even if we are sharing a hotel room.
My goodness, I’m sharing a hotel room with Lincoln Suco!
My stomach lurches. This was my dream—falling in love with Lincoln—but I never imagined it would be so inconvenient and awkward. I splash a bit more water on my face.
Get yourself together, Cassie. You’re both professional adults, and you can handle one night together in the same hotel room.
I hope I’m right.
Link
“Ouch!” Cassie grabs her finger and pulls it away from her backpack. “I just got caught in the zipper.”
I see a drop of blood forming on her skin and rush over to see how bad it is.
“Here, let's see how bad it is.” The smell of flowers from her shampoo, still lingering on her wet hair, hits my nose as I take her hand. When I heard that only one room was left in the hotel, I promised myself I wouldn’t let things go anywhere inappropriate. Yet I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing her since we walked in.
The zipper pinched through Cassie’s skin, giving her a decent little cut. I grab a tissue from the table set out by the hotel and dab away the blood .
“I don’t think it’ll be that bad. It’s just going to sting for a while.”
Cassie looks up at me, and our eyes lock.
“Thank you. You know, you’ve always been there when I need you. I appreciate that.” Her smile wobbles. “Earlier, when we talked about my dad, I forgot to thank you for what you did for him. If it hadn’t been for you… he wouldn’t have had anyone.”
Her voice breaks at the end, and this time, I can’t resist. I pull her into a hug, and her face presses into my shirt.
“You don’t have to thank me, Cassie.”
She pulls back, wipes away the tears that started down her cheek and steps away from me.
“I feel like we need to do something before we both end up in a position we regret.” She walks over to the bed, grabs a pillow, and then comes back toward me with a little maniacal laugh.
I don’t even have time to raise my hands before she hits me with the pillow as hard as she can. Considering that it’s Cassie, it doesn’t even phase me. I dive toward the bed, scooping up a pillow of my own. The two of us are lost in fits of laughter as we try to keep the noise down yet vanquish the other with our pillow weapons.
By the time we’re done, we’re both lying on our backs on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“That was fun,” Cassie sighs.
“Yes, it was. But I think I threw my back out. Maybe I’m a little too old for pillow fights.”
She laughs, and the sound warms my heart. I wish all I had to worry about was making her laugh every single day.
My heartbeat is so loud I can hear it in my ears. It’s like a drum, counting down my last moments until I’m exposed.
When I came up with why Nathan and Anita were seen together, I never imagined we would find Anita just a day later. I figured Mesquite, Montana, would be a dead end, and it would give me a little more time to work with Cassie and Quinn to find Nathan.
However, we are now standing on the porch of a simple little farmhouse, complete with flower boxes and a pasture fit for a dozen horses. After asking around town, we narrowed down where Anita was supposedly staying.
If luck is on my side, Cassie will forget to ask Anita about meeting with Nathan. But overlooking details like that is not like Cassie. I can’t help but be proud that I know she won’t overlook it.
When she finds out I lied about Nathan, she will want answers. I keep thinking that around the next corner, I won’t have to lie to her anymore. Every time I’m faced with a lie, it’s just one more, then I’ll be honest.
There’s a reason people say when you tell a lie, stay as close to the truth as possible. It’s getting hard to keep track of all the lies I’ve told.
How much more is she going to put up with?
“Ready for some answers?” Cassie knocks on the front door. Somebody has put a lot of work into the little farmhouse. It looks exactly like one of those places where someone goes to get off the grid.
Why is Anita off the grid? And what does it have to do with the Thorntons? The only good part about finding Anita is that it might give me some extra insight into Phineas’s motivations to find Nathan.
I told him I was going on a romantic trip with Cassie, framed as a work trip, where I intended to try to get her to give me a chance. He bought it and promised not to call, something he’s held to so far. His patience isn’t going to last forever, though.
The woman who comes to the door looks like Anita—perhaps her mother or an aunt—but they share the same bright red hair and even the glasses. I’ve stared at the young woman’s picture long enough to know everything about her appearance.
“Hi, can we speak to Anita?” Cassie starts in with her cheery voice.
The woman instantly looks guarded, her eyes darting between us. “Who are you? What do you want with Anita?”
“My name is Cassie, Cassie Love. Anita wanted to speak with me. She was traveling to Pinecrest to see me.” Cassie glances at me as if checking that her delivery is going all right. I can't tell if this woman will let us speak to Anita. It probably has very little to do with whatever Cassie says and a whole lot to do with why Anita ended up at this middle-of-nowhere farm in the first place.
“I'll be right back.” The woman closes the door without another word. Shrugging, I lean against the railing surrounding the neat porch.
“Do you think she's going to come out?” Cassie frowns. “Maybe we shouldn't have come here. Perhaps we could have told Meredith where the house was, and she could have come and dealt with Anita directly. ”
“What if Meredith wasn't forthcoming about the falling-out they had? Let's see if we can get Anita to tell us her side.” Anita's side is particularly interesting, as it directly ties in with my work with Phineas.
What is the Thornton family up to? There have been too many weird things going on. Knowledge is power in the type of game I'm playing with Phineas. I need more knowledge if I want the upper hand and the better cards. Anita could give me that.
The door opens just a crack, and Anita stares back at us. The ghost of a woman we've been looking for over the past week is finally in front of us.
“Anita. Thank goodness you're all right. Can we talk to you?” Cassie steps forward, and even I can see she comes off a little strongly. She's poured more into Anita's case than any of us, so of course, she's excited.
Anita shakes her head, her face barely visible. “I'm perfectly fine. Whatever reason you're looking for me, you can stop. I don't want to talk to anybody.”
“We need to talk to you. We need to figure out what's going on.” Cassie's expression scrunches up. “Meredith Thornton sent us to find you.”
Anita's face pales. “You didn't tell her where to find me, did you? She can't find me. Don't you understand it's the reason I'm here? I've already said too much. You need to go.”
Anita moves as if to close the door, and I manage to put my boot between it and the doorway just in time.
“You were looking for me, remember?” Cassie tries again. “I saw your calendar. This conversation was going to happen one way or another, and believe it or not, I'm on your side. If you just give us a few minutes and explain what you were doing in Pinecrest and what's going on with Meredith Thornton, then we'll be out of your hair for good.”
Cassie's tone has turned soft and pleading, similar to how she would speak to a trapped animal. It seems to work on Anita because, after a few tense moments, she relaxes and opens the door just a couple more inches.
“All right, I'll give you a few minutes and explain why I was in town. But just so you'll leave me alone and won't tell Meredith where I am.”
A bad feeling settles in my stomach. There's no reason for someone like Anita to be so afraid of Meredith or the Thornton family unless there have been threats involved. It doesn't surprise me one bit. The Thorntons have become as powerful as they are through many means, some of which I'm sure aren't legal.
I started to suspect that as soon as I heard Quinn was given Anita's missing bag of things without any procedure. That sort of thing doesn't happen legally, not to mention the fact that there's no case open at the police department about Anita's disappearance. The Thorntons have enough pull with the police that they could have gotten a search started if they really wanted to. Instead, they chose to go to a private detective agency.
Anita leads us to a small living room with a simple brown couch. A vase of plastic flowers sits on the coffee table, and a cheap painting of a frog hangs on the wall. Cassie sits down on the couch, and I sit down beside her. It looked like there was enough room for us, but as soon as I sink into it, the cushion gives way and pushes me up against her.
She sends a look my way, then refocuses on Anita. Is it wrong to admit I like being this close? The scent of vanilla tickles my nose. Is it her shampoo? I’m not sure.
“How did you guys find me?” Anita asks, rubbing her hands over her face.
“Well, we had to do quite a bit of searching. We visited the airport and talked to a friend at the dealership. Honestly, I thought coming here was a long shot.” I shrug. Finding her did seem like a stretch.
She opens her mouth to speak, and I can’t help but lean forward a little in anticipation. I have a feeling we’re about to hear an interesting story—one that could change everything.